Peter Pan Syndrome: an Afflicted Dark Lord
by AnagumaConscience
Summary: Voldemort is selfish, narcissistic, immature, irresponsible, rebellious, angry, manipulative, and believes that he is beyond the law. Now he needs to be a responsible adult...no arrant ships...
1. Chapter 1

**SPOILERS BOOKS 1-7!!!**

**A**uthor's **N**ote: For purposes entirely my own, I have altered a few things from the plot to fit my needs. One is when Voldemort finds out about the elder wand. There are probably other things, but I can't remember at the moment.

**O**verview: The Peter Pan Syndrome is a theory developed by Dr. Kiley, which describes adults (usually males) who "never grew up". These people have characteristics of children, which include narcissism, possession, dependency and the belief that they are above everyone and all rules. I hope you'll be able to recognize where I'm going with this as the story progresses.

One other thing, for those of you who don't know, on November 5, 1605, Guy Fawkes (a British soldier after which Jo named Dumbledore's pheonix) attempted to blow up the House of Parliament, a plan known as the Gunpowder Plot. He was attempting to reform the government. Voldemort will allude this near the beginning.

**D**edications: Turtle! She kinda convinced me to get a account...Also, to anyone who reviews and/or rates!!!

**D**isclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. If I did, most of them would still be alive, and Draco would be Turtle's (because I'm generous to my lovely beta).

**-----**

**C**hapter **O**ne: **C**oncieted

"Get Severus." Voldemort hissed to the crouching, flinching figure in front of him as he appeared in the Malfoy Manor. After a pause, he added, "And Narcissa."

Voldemort watched Pettigrew bow out of the room, and turned his mind back to what had just happened. _He got away again, and he still thinks that he's the one who's bested me._ Voldemort felt like he was the only one to have realized that Harry had no special talents. Every single time Potter had beat him, it was through someone else's accomplishments, or dumb (very dumb indeed) luck.

First, it was Lily. Damn bitch had started the whole mess. After Voldemort had finally found that loser, Quirrel, it was Lily screwing his plans up yet again, though Dumbledore hadn't helped either. In Harry's second year it was once again Dumbledore's insolent meddling. The boy had even screwed up third year, allowing Pettigrew to return as his most devoted servant (which, in reality, was a rather low standard). Harry's fourth and fifth years had also been rescued by Dumbledore. Voldemort was sure that his latest attack would succeed, since the oaf was planned to die. Even so, Potter got off.

He slammed his fist down on the dining table, and turned around, sensing that Severus and Narcissa had entered the room. Severus glanced nervously to Narcissa. Though he was probably considered too cold-hearted to notice, Voldemort knew perfectly well of what Severus had vowed to Narcissa.

"Narcissa," Voldemort decided to address her first. "Your boy is weak."

"Yes, Dark Lord."

"I will let you talk to him. I wouldn't want to put him off any more. He will listen to his mother." Narcissa was a favorite, to say, of Voldemort's, and he knew that her son was precious to her. The boy was weak; he couldn't see why. She and Severus were the only two death eaters he thought of on a first-name basis.

"Severus, thank you." Voldemort examined his hand idly. "With Dumbledore out of the way, I can kill the boy, and we can continue the removal of the mudbloods and blood traitors by November." Here, he turned to face his servants. "November fifth seems appropriate, doesn't it?"

"Ironic, to say the least," Severus pursed his lips. Of course, Voldemort knew about his true loyalties. They had come in the way a few times, but he couldn't see any way it would ruin his plans now. It just showed how weak Severus was.

"Hmm..." Voldemort looked at the chandelier musingly. "You're dismissed, Severus."

Severus bowed his head, and walked out of the room. Voldemort watched him go, and turned back to Narcissa.

"Where does Draco get his qualms of killing the worthless?" Voldemort sat down at the table. Narcissa remained standing in the doorway. "His father has served me well, and had participated in some of my largest exterminations. You are also devoted, but you shelter him."

Narcissa could tell from this that her lord knew about the unbreakable vow. "He is my son. I won't have you ruin him. He is too young to make these decisions, and if he chooses to kill when he is older, then I will support him. But now?" she shook her head. "Let him grow up before he decides who lives or dies."

"It does not matter if these people die, Narcissa." Voldemort stood up. "As for his age, he is nearly seventeen. He will be an adult soon, and he will be a citizen. He has no need to live with that _filth_ mucking up the streets. He will be rid of it, and by his own hand."

"What does it matter now? Dumbledore is dead. Does it matter who removed him?"

"You need to let go of him. He is too weak."

"Weak by what standards?"

Voldemort pounded his fist on the table. "You have crossed the line, Narcissa! From now on, Draco will study under his father. They will both report to me daily. I will _not_ have him be my downfall!"

Narcissa flinched, and looked away. "Yes, Dark Lord."

"Fetch him here."

Not able to say anything else, out of pure hatred, Narcissa merely turned and left.

_She cares for him far too much. She is pathetic also._ Voldemort's good mood was ruined. How could someone fail him so much?

---

Voldemort entered the Manor late two nights later, after a visit to Azkaban. He was very pleased with the outing; it had yielded helpful results. After the elder wand, he had paid a visit to its last known owner, in Azkaban.

Gellet Grindelwald really was a fool. He lost the wand so easily, and to that oaf, Dumbledore, nonetheless. Well, all the better for Voldemort. Now he could pry it directly from his cold, dead hands.

Voldemort walked slowly up the stairs to the room he used to think, where the din of everyone couldn't quite reach.

Voldemort frowned. Speaking of din...Voldemort heard a ruckus coming from the young Malfoy's room.

"He's damn right, you foolish boy!" That was Lucius's voice. "You and your mother both. I should have known she was bad blood."

"D-don't say that about mum." Voldemort's face turned sour at the sound of the boy's voice, but grinned as he heard Lucius's cane connect with flesh.

"That little bitch doesn't know what she's teaching you! Come with me now, we're going on a walk." Lucius opened the door, and stopped as he saw Voldemort standing there and smirking.

"Dark Lord," he bowed deeply. "May I speak with you?"

Voldemort continued smirking as the two walked down the hall to Voldemort's "study".

"I would like to take that boy out tonight," Lucius paced maliciously. "He needs experience in...certain matters."

---

"Severus," Voldemort addressed the figure sitting to his left. All around the table, Death Eaters shifted, jealous (or pitiful) of Severus's close position to the Dark Lord. "Since your noble, if not completely thoughtless, display of loyalty to me at the castle, we no longer have an informant."

"Is that really important now, my lord?" Severus grimaced behind his mask, and braced for the worst. "What knowledge will we need from the castle now? It is doubtful that the boy will be returning next year, after all of this."

"Oh, so you know where and when Dumbledore will be buried with the wand?" Voldemort smiled eerily, and glanced around the table. "The rest of you know too, then?" He turned back to Severus. "When, where?"

Severus bowed his head. "No, my lord."

Voldemort looked down his nose at the table of Death Eaters. "No...no, I didn't think so..."

A movement a few chairs down on Voldemort's left caught his eye. Lucius wanted to say something. "What is it, Malfoy?"

"Draco will be going back to Hogwarts next year. He can spy. No, he would be _delighted_ to spy."

"Of course he would be," Voldemort smiled, and even his most devoted followers cringed as he did so. The smile was a malicious thing. "And of course he will. There, Lucius. I knew you would be good for the boy."

---

"My lord," Narcissa entered the room after the Death Eater meeting was over, and everyone was leaving. Though she had never actually become a Death Eater, Voldemort allowed her to listen to the meetings from outside the room. "Please don't do this to Draco. I don't want my son to be a Death Eater."

"He will follow in his father's footsteps."

"And what about my footsteps? He is my son too."

Voldemort pinned Narcissa to the wall with his wand. "And in a week, when he's officially my spy, he will be _entirely_ mine."


	2. Chapter 2

**A**uthor's** N**ote – This one is really more from Severus' point of view. It's just much easier. Who really knows what's going on in Voldemort's head anyway? I know my chapters are short, so I'll try to keep things exciting for you. This is turning out way different than I had planned, but that's my muses for you. They always have secret plans for my stories. This is really becoming more of a Draco and Severus fic...I'll try to get back on the topic of Volders and Narcy if you so prefer.

**D**edications – To Turtle, Cyanide and Buddy for the absolutely amazing reviews. I will do anything for you guys, seriously. Would you like a castle? A brewery? How about I just worship you? Also to shickalove324, boredlittlestudent, Mishuky, and Buddy (once again) for the favorites and subscriptions. I write for you all.

**D**isclaimer – If I owned any of these characters, the Death Eaters would have their own plushies, candy and perfume, and Harry would make better use of time-turners.

**C**hapter **T**wo – **R**esponsibilities

Voldemort stared back at Severus, thoroughly disappointed in the competence of the people he relied on.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I truly mourn the loss." Voldemort gave a cold smile. The only thing he was remotely sorry for was the failure of the task he had set one of his most competent wizards. "Now, would you tell me how many we lost and if anyone was caught? Maybe then I can remedy the mistake of poor Lucius and LaPointe."

Severus gave a glare (and a rather Slytherin one at that), and then robotically recited the only thing his master cared about: the setbacks. "The only one dead was Lucius, but pandemonium ensued afterwards, and we assume Aurors caught two others."

"Whom?"

"LaPointe and Teft."

"And what of the man?"

"I had Worthington kill him after the fact."

Voldemort frowned, and then waved a hand, dismissing Severus. He contemplated the matter as he sauntered upstairs to his study.

---

Severus watched the chaos unfold from aside. He was only there to provide potion aid to any Death Eater who got injured. The black cloaked group knocked on the door of the house nearest the highway, and a young woman opened the door.

Being Sunday, and around 7:00, she probably wasn't expecting a murderous group of wizards to be behind the door. She wasn't startled at first. She called back to her husband, who must've been in the next room.

"Honey," She kept a wary eye on the men. "Are these your Klan friends?"

A distant voice answered. "I told you, I had to quit when we left the U.S. There is no KKK in England."

"Mmm..." The Death Eater who had rung the bell turned back to his followers, and said in his icy, airy voice, "We're after a bigger target than non-Caucasians, aren't we?" This was Lucius.

"_Avadakedavra_." Lucius killed the woman, and stepped over her body. "Someone push that aside."

Two Death Eaters did his bidding, and he moved along. Severus knew the trouble was coming as soon as the husband had snuck up on them. He watched as they were each knocked unconscious by a meat cleaver. The man must've been cooking a late dinner. Severus smelled hamburger cooking.

Severus decided it was time for intervention, and made his way in the house, sneaking behind the man.

"Snape you _fool_!" Lucius had noticed the approaching muggle, and Severus behind him. "_Kill_ him!"

As Severus reluctantly raised his wand to follow Lucius' mandate, he heard the incantation muttered behind him, and ducked.

Though he was confused, and had no idea what was going on in the least, the muggle had seen Lucius' startled face as he ripped the Death Eater mask off in disbelief, and heard Severus hit the floor as he ducked, and ducked also. The spell, spoken by LaPointe, hit Lucius.

With one look at Lucius' dead body, LaPointe knew he would be killed for such a mistake if Voldemort got his hands on him, and started to run for the door. Severus mind-wiped the husband, knocked him out, and grabbed after LaPointe, but just too late. He had a bad grip, and LaPointe shook him off easily, and got away.

---

That was all that Severus had told Voldemort. He made the rest up, entirely to please his lord. He had told Voldemort that Worthington had killed the husband, and they had followed procedure, which included taking a head count of remaining Death Eaters, and sweeping the house for any other survivors.

Severus, being next in favor with Voldemort after Lucius, took charge. He had first hidden the muggle man in the cellar, with a quickly written explanation that he had fallen down the cellar stairs in his bachelor pad, and that medical help would be on the way. He signed it as a rushed paramedic.

He then had rounded up the Death Eaters, and deemed a search and headcount unnecessary. They apparated away immediately, after he made the excuse that Aurors would be there any minute. This was probably true, but it only helped him to get the Death Eaters moving.

Death Eaters took the three bodies, Lucius and the two men who had been knocked out at the door, and apparated away.

They took head count after the apparition, and found that Teft was missing. No one knew where he was, or when he had been lost, but everyone agreed to report him as caught. Trouble would find them if Voldemort found out a week later that Teft had confessed all, and he hadn't even known that Teft was missing.

---

Now, Voldemort listened carefully to the house. He had found that, if he concentrated hard enough, he could hear any room in the Manor, and did so. Now, Narcissa and Severus were in the foyer, talking in hushed voices.

"Severus, what am I going to do with Draco?"

"I don't know what you mean. You won't need to do much as a parent at all; he's going back to Hogwarts in September."

"Exactly. The Dark Lord expects him to spy. Without his father as an influence, I hoped that Draco and I might--"

"Careful, Narcissa."

There was a moment of silence.

"Write him." Severus must have written a name and address down. Voldemort frowned that he couldn't see. "He'll watch Draco and make sure he does what he's supposed to at Hogwarts."

Voldemort smiled. _Good. I knew Severus would enforce the need of a spy._

---

Severus entered the room. "My lord," he bowed his head. "I would like to offer any assistance I might be able to offer you."

"What makes you think I am in need of assistance?"

"Well, you must've been busy last night, or you would've accompanied your Death Eaters. Oh, don't worry. They aren't sour about it. They know that what ever it was, it must've been more important than your responsibility over their lives. But now you must be even more overloaded, what with LaPointe and Teft missing and Lucius dead."

Voldemort had frowned at the accusations Severus had been alluding. Why should he have accompanied them? That was their job, after all. He had no responsibility over them. "Actually," he recovered quickly, and took the opportunity to take advantage of Severus' offer. "Would you very much mind fetching Draco and briefing him on the _responsibilities_ of spying at Hogwarts?"

"No," Severus smirked. "Not at all."

---

Voldemort was in his study again, listening this time to the room right next door. Severus was briefing Draco.

"Most importantly, you have to take advantage of the other Death Eater students. You have Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode in seventh year, Nelson in sixth, and Karson in fifth. There are also students with Death Eater parents who don't have the mark yet. Paulson in fifth, Larson, Watergate, and Shoemaker in fourth, and Birch, Danik, Krauss, and Otto in third will all be eager ears and eyes."

There was a scratching of quill on parchment and a moment of silence. Voldemort stopped listening as he heard Severus continue on to areas in the school which would be helpful. He continued to hear bits and pieces about spells, potions and curses, framed by the scratching of Draco's note-taking as the afternoon wore on.

---

Voldemort was no Big Brother. He could only hear. Severus was a Slytherin for sure. His cunning had masked what he had told Draco that afternoon.

While he rambled detachedly on about students and spells, his real focus was on the piece of parchment between him and the Malfoy boy.

_Your mother has requested this of me. Don't say a thing out loud. Voldemort is listening next door._ Severus paused and let Draco read what he had written. After the boy nodded, he continued. _This will be punished by death if he finds out, so if you want out, tell me now._ Draco read, and shook his head, motioning for Severus to continue. _Your mother wants you out of this house. She doesn't want the life of a Death Eater for you._

Draco took the paper, and wrote, in his perfect script, a reply. _If that's what Mother wants, then I will go. If it would help though, spying wouldn't be so bad. That way maybe she could get out and he wouldn't notice as easily. _

Severus shook his head as he wrote. _No. We'll leave in two days, and you will return to Hogwarts as a normal student. It will be harder with Dumbledore gone, but McGonagall should suffice for protection. She is a competent witch. He will still think you are spying, and we'll find Narcissa a believable excuse to move out. He won't even notice that you aren't his anymore._

As he continued on about Draco's "spying", he continued to plan with Draco on paper. _Voldemort should really be more responsible, huh?_ Draco was getting excited with the thrill of adventure.

_What do you mean by that?_

_If he were more responsible, then it would be him "briefing" me, and not you. He should keep better track of his Death Eaters._

------

Mmm...Well...Review, pleasies! I want to know if you like the way this is going, or if I should get back to Voldy-kin's childishness.

** 3**c**O**nscience


	3. Chapter 3

**A**uthor's** N**ote – All right y'all. No one reviewed, so I've decided that I don't particularly care what you think about where this is going. It's _really_ hard to write Voldemort, so I'm dropping the whole "Voldy needs a mommy" bit. I'll probably keep it as a side plot, but I think I'm gonna focus on Draco being good. See, Turtle's the only one who's reviewed, and she loves Draco. See? You review, and the author gets happy, and writes more. And better.

If Turtle can write 5000 word chapters, then I can make 2000, right? Right?!?! Well, that's my goal this time around. Wish me luck!

Yea, I'm aware that the title is still about Voldemort, even though I've sort of (permanently) moved on from him. Maybe I'll bring him back, I don't know. It still sorta pertains to the story, right? Peter Pan Syndrome? I'm still focusing on Narcissa's motherliness…If people REVIEW, I'll be inspired. I promise. So REVIEW, like the AMAZING TURTLE did!

**D**edications – To TURTLE, who is now –– years old…see, I'd tell you how old she is, but she doesn't appreciate stalkers having information, and I respect the birthday girl's wishes. Everyone go read her amazing story!!! As a birthday present if nothing else, though I hope you would all be genuinely interested…She's under my Favorite Authors on my profile…

**D**isclaimer – If I owned any of these characters, the Death Eaters would have their own plushies, candy and perfume, and Harry would make better use of time-turners. I would also be able to come up with a new disclaimer.

"ABRAKADAMMIT" was used by Greg Porter in his fic titled "Harry Potter and the Urges of Firey Goblets". Kudos to him, sorry I didn't ask permission to borrow it…If you have a huge problem with it, let me know and I will edit it out.

**C**hapter **T**hree – **F**ailure

Draco had been warned just before Severus sent him off to bed to keep his mind off their plans. Though he didn't make use of the skills _constantly_, Voldemort was a gifted legilimens, and was bound to check everyone daily.

Draco, knowing only the very basics of Occlumency, pushed his escape plans to the back of his mind, leaving him free to think on the very fact he had been avoiding acknowledging. _Father is dead._

Draco did not feel sad. He felt guilty, but not for Lucius's death. He felt guilty for not feeling sad. He was his father, for God's sake, but not really. Lucius had never been a father to Draco. Draco almost _smirked_ at the thought that Lucius was dead, but he caught himself. He would have, if it weren't something he could have pictured Lucius doing.

There had been a time, once, when Draco was little, and Lucius had shown compassion. It was the day Draco was getting his second wand—he must've been 7 at the time—and they were in Ollivander's shop.

"No, I said _Hawthorn_." Draco remembered Lucius throwing down the chestnut wand he had been presented with. "I think I know my own son well enough to know that he needs a _springy_ wand. _Hawthorn_ should do _fine_! Chestnut, on the other hand, is stiff and unyielding."

"E-Excuse me sir." Ollivander had eventually presented them with a wand Lucius deemed acceptable, but Draco didn't remember much else.

Draco looked at his father with wonder. That one time, _one_ _time_, was the _only _time Lucius had ever seemed remotely proud to be related to Draco. "I think I know my own son."

I could go into more elaboration over the relationship of the two, but I have a feeling, as authors do, that you get the point. I'd sincerely hate for this to become sentimental drivel.

Draco, desperate for a "safe" topic, thought about his mother, Narcissa, whom he had noticed Voldemort had taken a liking to.

After Lucius had left his spot at Voldemort's side open at the conference table, Voldemort had insisted that Narcissa sit down, even though she wasn't a Death Eater.

Voldemort always called her with Severus for advice (though they were really just Yes-Men), and sometimes Draco thought he actually valued her opinion.

Worst of all, Draco was sick to see _desperation_ in the Dark Lord for her. He could see that Voldemort tried _so hard_ to impress her, and that was the scariest thought of all.

He fell asleep that night worrying about her, with the excitement that would be arriving in two days' time lurking in the back of his mind.

---

Voldemort, as predictable as Severus had said he would be, sat down in his study that night, and dropped one by one in the minds of each of the house's inhabitants, like a twisted, demented cross between Queen Mab and Big Brother: Big Mab, or Queen Brother. He checked his favorites first, not knowing the value of saving the best for last, as many children don't.

Narcissa was thinking fondly of her son. Her passion was so overwhelming that Voldemort couldn't get any more details from her mind. He sneered in disgust—and jealousy—and moved on.

Severus's mind was arrantly blank, as always. It set Voldemort on edge to have a skilled Occlumency user in his ranks, and every so often he put the effort forth to break through, but loss of the amount of energy it took made it hard to check the rest of the resident Death Eaters. Tonight, he skipped over Severus, and moved on to Draco.

Draco's mind was jumbled, mostly with his parents, as would be expected, as he had just lost his father. Voldemort found the boy much easier to unravel. First, just his basic emotions: guilt, hatred, love, worry, excitement.

Voldemort, with the glee of being able to tear Draco's mind apart with such ease, analyzed each emotion individually. The boy felt guilt for not mourning Lucius. Having read too far into it, this bothered Voldemort. _If Draco didn't support Lucius that must mean that he doesn't support me..._ Voldemort's paranoia made it hard for him to let it go and move on to the other matters.

Draco also hated Lucius for his malicious nature, and for not being a father. Voldemort disagreed. Lucius had been a proper father; he had raised Draco better than Narcissa ever could have. During the short period of reform after Voldemort put Draco under Lucius's teachings, Draco had shown promise. With Lucius's death, the boy had gone downhill.

Draco was worried about Narcissa, and acknowledged the fact that Voldemort had an interest in her. Well, as far as Voldemort was could see, it was none of his business. Narcissa was _his_ Death Eater, and she would remain loyal to him, blood ties or no. The love Draco felt for her was merely because he had been brought up to think that love was required by a mother. No, Voldemort was sure that _loyalty_ was the important thing, and, _knowing_ his instinct was right, he stood by his gut. After all, it had gotten him this far, right?

And finally the boy's excitement. It was faint, barely there, but Voldemort saw it, and he got curious. The curiosity gave him determination, and he dug deeper for the details. He pushed past the snippits about Lucius and Narcissa, and caught vague annotations on the broad emotion of excitement.

Then he reached the core. Narcissa, Draco and Severus were leaving, and Draco was _excited_. Draco _wanted_ to leave. Voldemort jerked away from the legilimency with anger, and growled.

He stood to leave, kicked his desk chair, and slammed his fist down, but stopped as soon as he turned around and saw the wand of a darkly cloaked figure raised to his neck.

---

Draco woke nearly right after he had fallen asleep to a nagging in his mind. The presence was bitter, and its need to know everything ripped his mind apart. He was careful not to let his mind's contents change a _bit_; it was easier now that he was conscious, and he sent for Severus with a folded crane.

He had his quill scrawl quickly,

_Quick, the subject of our tutoring session is being examined._

And he sent it off. A few moments later he heard Severus's rushing steps on the stair case as he ran up from his dungeon room. When Draco heard the door fly open a floor up, he knew it was safe to let the fear enter his thoughts.

_Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit._ Draco curled up under his covers, as though he could escape the killing curse he was sure was coming. _He's going to kill us, me, and Mother, and Severus. Voldemort_ knows._ He's going to _kill_ us._ All of the times Draco had seen the killing curse performed ran through his head. The green light, the screams, and his eyes closing, himself shaking with fear.

Yes, Draco _was_ practically an adult; he was 17, but you must realize his situation. He had been caught planning betrayal to the deadliest wizard in Europe, who was just upstairs. Scenarios flew through his mind in which Voldemort caught him and killed him in various ways, and all Draco could do was curl up in his bed, and wait for the moment to pass.

He slowly calmed himself, got up and started packing. Quickly but quietly he threw the necessities (wand, books, clothes) into a bottomless trunk, grabbed his broom as an afterthought, his hand shaking the entire time. He snapped the clasps shut on the trunk, took a deep breath, and pressed his ear to the door, trying to tell if it was safe to leave his room.

In all actuality almost anything, except running into Voldemort's arms, of course, would have been safer than staying in his room. Voldemort could have been coming down the hallway at that very moment, knowing that the boy was standing, awaiting his fate, just behind that door. Draco, being logical, realized this and left, turning away from the staircase where Voldemort would be coming down, and towards his mother's room.

Draco's caution was practical, but unnecessary. Severus, though just being a spy, working for his own benefits, caught his alleged master just in time to over power him.

---

"Ah, Severus," Voldemort drew his wand maliciously, "Thank you for coming; it saves me the trouble of finding you." He lunged, "_ABRAKADAMMIT_!" Yes, Voldemort _was_ that flustered. The Dark Lord was easily incensed, and he had only been this angry once before. As he had just demonstrated to the now confident Potions Master, pure anger makes incantations difficult.

His embarrassing mistake only caused him to become more flustered, and clumsier. Severus smirked, as he always kept his cool, and took the opportunity to attack.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Severus had known the Killing Curse wouldn't kill him. Voldemort still had five horcruxes left, but it would put him off for long enough, plenty long even. Last time it had taken him thirteen years to get back on his feet.

Severus knew that the rest of the Death Eaters would be waking from all the noise, so he ran off to Narcissa's room, where he knew Draco would be. The boy certainly had been loud enough escaping.

---

Draco stumbled down the hallway, not worrying about stealth, just focusing on getting to his mother before Voldemort did. He pushed the door open, fell inside, sunk to his knees, and got out her trunk.

"Draco, darling?" Narcissa shot up in her bed. She somehow knew that there was no time for her to be sleepy; it was a mother's instinct. "Draco darling, what is it?" She got up and helped him toss clothes and money into the suitcase, still waiting for his explanation.

"It's him," Draco snarled as he slammed the suitcase shut. He stood up and offered his mother a hand. "Voldemort found out."

"Shh!" Narcissa frowned at Draco's facility to speak the name so easily, but took his hand. They both started towards the door, but stopped as it flew open.

Narcissa screamed and flung her arms up. Draco's hand flew to his wand.

"Would you two shut up?" Severus flipped his hair out of his face. "Get your stuff; we're leaving."

Their foot steps must have echoed in the high-ceilinged hallways, because they were met by two Death Eaters in the foyer. Worthington and Bellatrix each smirked, and raised their wands.

"My Lord!" Worthington shouted up the staircase, not taking his eyes off the three. "We found them, My Lord! Let us kill them, oh please! I want to kill them for you, Master!"

Bellatrix didn't intend to wait for Voldemort's permission. She attacked, and Severus threw himself at Narcissa, who in turn fell on top of Draco, knocking all three into safety.

"_Stupify_!" Draco shot the hex at his aunt from his position on the floor. His dead-center aim resulted in success, but also in Worthington's anger.

"My lord, forgive my effrontery." He aimed his wand at Draco. "_Incendio_!"

"_Augamenti_!" Narcissa desperately shot forth, and after the stream of fire was satiated, she hugged Draco fiercely.

"Narcissa," Severus blocked a few more shots from Worthington. "_Get up!_"

Narcissa and Draco both obeyed, and joined in the fight. Ending with the final "_Defodio_" of a Gouging Spell from Severus, the three overpowered Worthington fairly easily.

Narcissa once again embraced her son, and Severus knelt beside them, a hand on Narcissa's shoulder. More gently this time, he whispered, "Get up, Narcissa. We have to go now."

They gathered their trunks and walked out the front door, aiming for the boundary of the Malfoy land, where the charms and spells ended, and they could apparate away. Draco watched his feet. One foot, oh, and there was his left. His mind was so weary that he didn't register that he was seeing the same sight over and over, until he stumbled once. His mind wrapped around the sight of one foot passing in front of the other. One foot, oh, and there was his left.

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A/N – Wow…I did it. I really did. It took me four freaking hours, but I made it past 2000 words. 2032, 2381 including the A/Ns, Dedication, and Disclaimer. Should I shoot for 3000 next time? It was really rather tense and Draco-filled, no? I liked it. Wait, who wrote this? Oh yea…that was me…

- - - a n a g u m a…

c . 0 . n . s . c . I . e . n . c . e


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